mleighd94

[mleighd94]

@remedyx

🎬 Cinematic Trailer Script for The Girl In Ashford Ridge

🎥 [Black screen. Faint ambient wind. Then—soft piano begins.]

🎙️ Namjoon (V.O.):

“Some people disappear quietly.

Others leave behind echoes.”

🎥 [A rooftop party: golden lights strung above. Laughter. Loren—barefoot, laughing mid-spin, disappearing into the crowd.]

🎙️ Jimin (V.O.):

“She wasn’t the loudest voice in the room.

But she was the one we all heard.”

🎥 [Snapshots:

– A napkin sketch

– A ring dropped into a mason jar

– A letter sealed with gold wax

– A melody hummed in moonlight]

🎙️ Yoongi (V.O.):

“She said she wanted something real.

Not luxury. Not legacy. Just… life.”

🎥 [Fade to: Empty coat on a chair. Her chair. Café lights dim. Music cuts out.]

🎙️ Jungkook (V.O.):

“Then one day, she was gone.”

🎥 [Scene shift: Ashford Ridge. Wind through trees. Art on brick walls. A university campus with ivy climbing its edges.]

🎙️ Hoseok (V.O.):

“Everyone forgot her.

Everyone but us.”

🎥 [Each member holding a clue. Namjoon opens a book. Jin bites into a strawberry tart. Jimin unfolds the letter. Taehyung lifts a blurry Polaroid. Yoongi sees the café sketch. Jungkook strums the haunting melody.]

🎙️ Taehyung (V.O.):

“We weren’t meant to save her.

She saved herself.

But maybe… we’re meant to find her.”

🎥 [Camera glides past a countryside café. Loren sits inside sketching, framed by soft afternoon light. Her eyes flicker toward the window—just as someone walks by.]

🎬 [Title appears in elegant serif over a watercolor sketch of the café and Ashford Ridge’s skyline.]

The Girl In Ashford Ridge

She left behind a name. They remembered who she really was.

🌸 In honor of BTS returning from their military service this month, I’ve created this new series: The Girl in Ashford Ridge.

This story is close to my heart, and I’m so excited to eventually share it with you. That said, I’ll be finishing my other three series before diving into this one fully. 💫

I have so many ideas brewing for future series, and I can’t wait to bring them to life. Thank you for reading, supporting, and dreaming with me. 💖

[mleighd94]

@remedyx

🎬 Cinematic Trailer Script for The Girl In Ashford Ridge

🎥 [Black screen. Faint ambient wind. Then—soft piano begins.]

🎙️ Namjoon (V.O.):

“Some people disappear quietly.

Others leave behind echoes.”

🎥 [A rooftop party: golden lights strung above. Laughter. Loren—barefoot, laughing mid-spin, disappearing into the crowd.]

🎙️ Jimin (V.O.):

“She wasn’t the loudest voice in the room.

But she was the one we all heard.”

🎥 [Snapshots:

– A napkin sketch

– A ring dropped into a mason jar

– A letter sealed with gold wax

– A melody hummed in moonlight]

🎙️ Yoongi (V.O.):

“She said she wanted something real.

Not luxury. Not legacy. Just… life.”

🎥 [Fade to: Empty coat on a chair. Her chair. Café lights dim. Music cuts out.]

🎙️ Jungkook (V.O.):

“Then one day, she was gone.”

🎥 [Scene shift: Ashford Ridge. Wind through trees. Art on brick walls. A university campus with ivy climbing its edges.]

🎙️ Hoseok (V.O.):

“Everyone forgot her.

Everyone but us.”

🎥 [Each member holding a clue. Namjoon opens a book. Jin bites into a strawberry tart. Jimin unfolds the letter. Taehyung lifts a blurry Polaroid. Yoongi sees the café sketch. Jungkook strums the haunting melody.]

🎙️ Taehyung (V.O.):

“We weren’t meant to save her.

She saved herself.

But maybe… we’re meant to find her.”

🎥 [Camera glides past a countryside café. Loren sits inside sketching, framed by soft afternoon light. Her eyes flicker toward the window—just as someone walks by.]

🎬 [Title appears in elegant serif over a watercolor sketch of the café and Ashford Ridge’s skyline.]

The Girl In Ashford Ridge

She left behind a name. They remembered who she really was.

🌸 In honor of BTS returning from their military service this month, I’ve created this new series: The Girl in Ashford Ridge.

This story is close to my heart, and I’m so excited to eventually share it with you. That said, I’ll be finishing my other three series before diving into this one fully. 💫

I have so many ideas brewing for future series, and I can’t wait to bring them to life. Thank you for reading, supporting, and dreaming with me. 💖

[mleighd94]

🎬 Cinematic Trailer Script for The Girl In Ashford Ridge

🎥 [Black screen. Faint ambient wind. Then—soft piano begins.]

🎙️ Namjoon (V.O.):

“Some people disappear quietly.

Others leave behind echoes.”

🎥 [A rooftop party: golden lights strung above. Laughter. Loren—barefoot, laughing mid-spin, disappearing into the crowd.]

🎙️ Jimin (V.O.):

“She wasn’t the loudest voice in the room.

But she was the one we all heard.”

🎥 [Snapshots:

– A napkin sketch

– A ring dropped into a mason jar

– A letter sealed with gold wax

– A melody hummed in moonlight]

🎙️ Yoongi (V.O.):

“She said she wanted something real.

Not luxury. Not legacy. Just… life.”

🎥 [Fade to: Empty coat on a chair. Her chair. Café lights dim. Music cuts out.]

🎙️ Jungkook (V.O.):

“Then one day, she was gone.”

🎥 [Scene shift: Ashford Ridge. Wind through trees. Art on brick walls. A university campus with ivy climbing its edges.]

🎙️ Hoseok (V.O.):

“Everyone forgot her.

Everyone but us.”

🎥 [Each member holding a clue. Namjoon opens a book. Jin bites into a strawberry tart. Jimin unfolds the letter. Taehyung lifts a blurry Polaroid. Yoongi sees the café sketch. Jungkook strums the haunting melody.]

🎙️ Taehyung (V.O.):

“We weren’t meant to save her.

She saved herself.

But maybe… we’re meant to find her.”

🎥 [Camera glides past a countryside café. Loren sits inside sketching, framed by soft afternoon light. Her eyes flicker toward the window—just as someone walks by.]

🎬 [Title appears in elegant serif over a watercolor sketch of the café and Ashford Ridge’s skyline.]

The Girl In Ashford Ridge

She left behind a name. They remembered who she really was.

🌸 In honor of BTS returning from their military service this month, I’ve created this new series: The Girl in Ashford Ridge.

This story is close to my heart, and I’m so excited to eventually share it with you. That said, I’ll be finishing my other three series before diving into this one fully. 💫

I have so many ideas brewing for future series, and I can’t wait to bring them to life. Thank you for reading, supporting, and dreaming with me. 💖

[mleighd94]

@shakespeare-in-the-park7 I’m glad you’re enjoying and hope you continue to enjoy

Hallowed Grove

Chapter One: The Glitch in Reality

BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ.

Blindly, I reach for my phone, fingers fumbling to silence the shrill alarm. A sigh escapes me as I sink deeper into the sheets, savoring the fleeting moment of stillness before the day demands my presence.

Reluctantly, I rise, stretching as the remnants of sleep cling to me like a fading dream. The air is cool against my skin, a subtle reminder that winter is slipping away, making room for spring. I reach for the new floral dress I bought—soft pastels with delicate petals blooming across the fabric. A small indulgence to welcome the changing seasons.

Sliding on a pair of sandals, I grab a croissant, barely taking a bite before stuffing it into my mouth. Purse in hand, I hurry out the door, the morning air crisp and fresh as I make my way to the subway.

With a practiced motion, I slip in my AirPods, letting the music drown out the world. The rhythmic thrum of the train station hums beneath my feet as I wait, watching the crowd shift and flow like a living organism. I shouldn’t be late today. Scar wouldn’t be too upset. Still, I liked to get to the café early and help her open, even though she always insisted I didn’t have to. I knew she could handle it, but those leering old men who loitered outside until she unlocked the doors always made me uneasy.

Then—something flickers in the corner of my vision.

I turn, scanning the station. Nothing. Just glass windows reflecting the people waiting alongside me.

But there it is again—across the platform this time. A shimmer, like the world itself is… glitching.

I glance around, expecting someone else to notice, but no one reacts. The man scrolling through his phone, the woman adjusting her scarf, the tired worker staring blankly at the train tracks—none of them seem to see it.

My heartbeat quickens.

A third flicker, sharper than before. Then—light.

Blinding. Consuming.

The subway station vanishes.

For a moment, there is nothing. No sound, no gravity, no breath. Just an all-encompassing radiance, searing into my senses.

And then—life returns.

The ground beneath me is no longer cold tile but soft grass, damp with morning dew. The scent of earth and flowers replaces the metallic tang of the city. A gentle breeze brushes my skin, carrying the distant murmur of a waterfall.

Birdsong. Fireflies dancing in the air like scattered stars. A lake stretches before me, the water so clear it reflects the sky like glass. Wildflowers bloom in a riot of colors, their petals swaying as though whispering secrets to the wind. Towering trees surround me, their emerald leaves glowing softly, speckled with floating lights that shimmer like embers.

I turn in a slow circle, my mind reeling.

This isn’t real.

I was on the subway. I was going to work. This is a dream. An illusion.

I pinch my forearm, hard.

Pain shoots up my arm. Not a dream.

A sharp gasp escapes my lips as I flick my wrist, shaking off the lingering sting. That’s when I see it—eyes, watching me from the lake.

Deep, endless blue.

The moment they realize I’ve spotted them, a voice—smooth, rich with curiosity—breaks the silence.

“Who are you?”

I swallow, my throat dry. “I—I’m Y/N. Can you help me? I don’t know how I got here.”

The stranger pushes himself up, revealing more of his face. His long, dark hair shimmers with hints of deep, pickled blue, strands of pearls woven into the waves. Multiple pearl necklaces loop around his neck, catching the sunlight. But it’s his eyes that hold me still—dark blue, like the depths of the ocean.

His expression remains unreadable as he regards me. “This is Hallowed Grove. Home to many unique magical creatures.”

Hallowed Grove?

I repeat the name in a whisper, my gaze sweeping over the breathtaking scenery again. The way the air hums with energy, the way the water ripples despite the absence of wind—everything feels alive in a way I’ve never known.

I turn back to him. “What’s your name? You know mine—I’d like to know yours.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “I’m Hoseok.” There’s warmth in his voice now, but a lingering curiosity remains. “It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N.” His gaze sharpens slightly. “You said you don’t know how you got here. Are you… human? From the human world?”

I blink at the strange phrasing, suddenly feeling like I’m on the other side of a zoo exhibit. “Yes?” I answer, though the uncertainty in my own voice makes me wince. “I mean—yes. I’m human. Have you never met a human before?”

He shakes his head. “No. None of us have.”

Us?

Before I can ask what he means, Hoseok moves suddenly, pulling himself out of the water in one swift motion.

I gasp, stumbling back. He has a tail.

No—he had a tail.

As soon as he steps onto the shore, it disappears, replaced by long, powerful legs. My eyes widen in horror as I realize he’s completely naked.

“Oh my gosh!” I yelp, spinning around and covering my eyes, my face instantly burning.

A soft chuckle rumbles behind me. “You’ve never seen a merman before?”

“Merman?” I echo. “Like mermaids… but a man?” My voice is thin with disbelief. “I thought they only existed in fairy tales.”

“They do in your world.” His tone is amused. “You can look now—I have clothes on.”

Slowly, I turn back. Hoseok now wears a loose white tunic and fitted trousers that emphasize the strength of his legs. My eyes trail over the way the fabric clings to his muscular thighs before I realize what I’m doing. My cheeks flush an even deeper shade of pink.

Another chuckle.

“Who is your friend, Hoseok?”

The new voice is warm, playful, carrying an almost musical lilt. I look over my shoulder to see a man with golden-blonde hair, an apricot-colored tunic, and brown pants tucked into laced-up boots. Flowers rest on his shoulders, and flecks of glitter catch the sunlight on his cheeks and collarbones.

And he’s flying.

“Tae, this is Y/N, the human,” Hoseok says dryly. “Y/N, this is Tae.”

Tae glides toward me with effortless grace, taking my hand in his own. He lifts it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it, his gaze never wavering from mine.

“It’s lovely to meet you, sweet surrender.”

My breath catches. The pet name lingers in the air between us like a spell.

Hoseok groans. “She doesn’t know how she got here. I was about to take her to Namjoon.”

“Ah, wise choice. If anyone knows how to return her home, it’s him.” Tae releases my hand, flashing me one last dazzling smile before flying off into the trees.

I watch him disappear, still reeling.

Hoseok extends a hand. “Come on. Let’s find Namjoon.”

I follow him down a winding path until the lake becomes a river, flowing into what looks like a bayou. Fireflies dance above the water as crickets hum in the distance. Hoseok stops at the shore.

A figure emerges—broad-shouldered, holding a golden trident.

Namjoon.

And when he speaks, his words send a chill through me.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you get back to the human world.”

A beat of silence.

I stare at him. “Why not?”

He meets my gaze.

“Because I’m the reason you’re here.”

@remedyx Thank you so much for the title picture artwork banner, and thank you for putting up with me and looking over the story. 

[mleighd94]

Eternal Hunt Chapter Twelve: Fractures in the Dark

The mausoleum was cold even after they left it behind.

The stone corridors, the ancient sigils, the weight of the Vermilion Oath pressed down on all of them—especially her.

Y/N barely felt the ground beneath her boots as she stalked ahead, the others’ voices dull murmurs behind her.

She needed air. Space.

Away from their questions, their eyes. Away from the weapon humming against her very existence.

She shoved open a side door into the crumbling courtyard, the night heavy with mist and silence.

And of course—

Lee Know was the one who followed.

He stepped into the mist behind her, closing the door with a soft click.

They stood apart for a moment, the cold breath of the night between them.

“You going to tell us why you looked like you’d seen a ghost back there?” he asked, voice cutting through the dark.

She didn’t turn around. “You don’t want my answers, Lee Know. You just want someone to blame.”

“I want the truth,” he snapped. “We risked everything to find that thing, and you—” He broke off, fists clenching at his sides. “You knew something. You’re still hiding something.”

She turned then, slow and sharp, eyes flashing crimson for just a second in the dark.

“What do you want from me?” she hissed. “An apology? A confession? You want me to say I’m the monster you all suspect I am?”

Lee Know’s jaw tightened. “I want you to stop pretending you’re alone in this.”

The words hit harder than any blade.

And maybe it was the fear from the mausoleum.

Maybe it was the crack the Bloodstone had already put in her heart.

Maybe it was Lee Know’s stubborn, infuriating refusal to look away from her even when she was at her worst.

But Y/N moved before she could stop herself.

She crossed the space between them in a flash—hands grabbing the front of his jacket, fisting the fabric—and kissed him.

Hard.

Lee Know froze for half a heartbeat.

Then he kissed her back, just as rough, just as desperate.

Teeth clashing, breath stolen between them, the mist curling around their bodies as if trying to hold them there.

It wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t clean.

It was fury and fear and longing wrapped into one impossible moment.

And just as suddenly as it started—

Y/N pulled away.

They stood there, chest to chest, breathing hard, the mist thick around them.

Lee Know’s eyes were wild, confused, dark.

“What was that?” he rasped.

Y/N stepped back, breaking the contact, shaking her head as if trying to clear it.

“Nothing,” she whispered.

A lie too thin to cover the shudder in her voice.

Before he could stop her, she turned and slipped back into the night, leaving him standing there, heart hammering against his ribs like it was trying to break free.

And for the first time in a long time, Minho didn’t know if he wanted to chase after someone—or run the other way.

By the time Y/N returned to the others, her hands were steady, her face calm.

No one would know what had just happened in the mist.

No one except Minho.

And Minho was doing a terrible job of hiding it.

He rejoined the group stiffly, keeping a careful distance from her. His eyes flickered to her once, sharp and unreadable, before darting away again.

Chan noticed first.

He was scanning the team, assessing injuries, when his gaze snagged on Minho—and the tension rolling off him like a storm cloud.

His frown deepened when he glanced at Y/N, who was unusually quiet, her crimson eyes shuttered.

Something had happened.

Something he hadn’t been part of.

And he hated the way that thought settled in his chest, heavy and ugly.

“You two okay?” Chan asked casually, too casually.

Minho grunted, tugging his jacket tighter around his shoulders.

“Peachy.”

Y/N said nothing. She just turned away, pretending to check the edge of the mausoleum wall for exits.

Hyunjin caught it too, but his reaction was different.

His eyes narrowed slightly, calculating, a flash of something fierce behind them. He wasn’t stupid. He remembered the way Y/N had kissed him—not just for comfort. Not just for survival.

And now she was keeping secrets again.

From all of them.

Felix, always the peacemaker, broke the tension. “We should move before Dominic’s scouts realize what we found.”

Chan nodded, but his eyes lingered on Y/N and Minho a second longer than necessary.

And inside, something twisted.

Because he didn’t just want her safe anymore.

He wanted her to look at him the way she clearly had just looked at someone else.

And for the first time, Chan realized—

He was already losing.

[mleighd94]

Eternal Hunt Chapter Twelve: Fractures in the Dark

The mausoleum was cold even after they left it behind.

The stone corridors, the ancient sigils, the weight of the Vermilion Oath pressed down on all of them—especially her.

Y/N barely felt the ground beneath her boots as she stalked ahead, the others’ voices dull murmurs behind her.

She needed air. Space.

Away from their questions, their eyes. Away from the weapon humming against her very existence.

She shoved open a side door into the crumbling courtyard, the night heavy with mist and silence.

And of course—

Lee Know was the one who followed.

He stepped into the mist behind her, closing the door with a soft click.

They stood apart for a moment, the cold breath of the night between them.

“You going to tell us why you looked like you’d seen a ghost back there?” he asked, voice cutting through the dark.

She didn’t turn around. “You don’t want my answers, Lee Know. You just want someone to blame.”

“I want the truth,” he snapped. “We risked everything to find that thing, and you—” He broke off, fists clenching at his sides. “You knew something. You’re still hiding something.”

She turned then, slow and sharp, eyes flashing crimson for just a second in the dark.

“What do you want from me?” she hissed. “An apology? A confession? You want me to say I’m the monster you all suspect I am?”

Lee Know’s jaw tightened. “I want you to stop pretending you’re alone in this.”

The words hit harder than any blade.

And maybe it was the fear from the mausoleum.

Maybe it was the crack the Bloodstone had already put in her heart.

Maybe it was Lee Know’s stubborn, infuriating refusal to look away from her even when she was at her worst.

But Y/N moved before she could stop herself.

She crossed the space between them in a flash—hands grabbing the front of his jacket, fisting the fabric—and kissed him.

Hard.

Lee Know froze for half a heartbeat.

Then he kissed her back, just as rough, just as desperate.

Teeth clashing, breath stolen between them, the mist curling around their bodies as if trying to hold them there.

It wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t clean.

It was fury and fear and longing wrapped into one impossible moment.

And just as suddenly as it started—

Y/N pulled away.

They stood there, chest to chest, breathing hard, the mist thick around them.

Lee Know’s eyes were wild, confused, dark.

“What was that?” he rasped.

Y/N stepped back, breaking the contact, shaking her head as if trying to clear it.

“Nothing,” she whispered.

A lie too thin to cover the shudder in her voice.

Before he could stop her, she turned and slipped back into the night, leaving him standing there, heart hammering against his ribs like it was trying to break free.

And for the first time in a long time, Minho didn’t know if he wanted to chase after someone—or run the other way.

By the time Y/N returned to the others, her hands were steady, her face calm.

No one would know what had just happened in the mist.

No one except Minho.

And Minho was doing a terrible job of hiding it.

He rejoined the group stiffly, keeping a careful distance from her. His eyes flickered to her once, sharp and unreadable, before darting away again.

Chan noticed first.

He was scanning the team, assessing injuries, when his gaze snagged on Minho—and the tension rolling off him like a storm cloud.

His frown deepened when he glanced at Y/N, who was unusually quiet, her crimson eyes shuttered.

Something had happened.

Something he hadn’t been part of.

And he hated the way that thought settled in his chest, heavy and ugly.

“You two okay?” Chan asked casually, too casually.

Minho grunted, tugging his jacket tighter around his shoulders.

“Peachy.”

Y/N said nothing. She just turned away, pretending to check the edge of the mausoleum wall for exits.

Hyunjin caught it too, but his reaction was different.

His eyes narrowed slightly, calculating, a flash of something fierce behind them. He wasn’t stupid. He remembered the way Y/N had kissed him—not just for comfort. Not just for survival.

And now she was keeping secrets again.

From all of them.

Felix, always the peacemaker, broke the tension. “We should move before Dominic’s scouts realize what we found.”

Chan nodded, but his eyes lingered on Y/N and Minho a second longer than necessary.

And inside, something twisted.

Because he didn’t just want her safe anymore.

He wanted her to look at him the way she clearly had just looked at someone else.

And for the first time, Chan realized—

He was already losing.

[mleighd94]

Hallowed Grove Chapter Eleven: What Sleeps Beneath

The birds didn’t sing that morning.

Y/N woke to silence — not peaceful, but wrong. The kind of stillness that made the back of her neck prickle. Dew clung to the edges of the tent flap, yet the air was dry. Tense. Listening.

She stepped outside barefoot, the grass damp beneath her feet. The silver tree still glowed in the glade beyond, but its light had changed. No longer soft. No longer patient. It pulsed now, faint and fast — like it was nervous.

Y/N’s eyes scanned the forest edge.

Something felt broken.

She followed a small trail toward the stream she had visited the night before. It had always run clear, shimmering beneath the moonlight. But now… it was cloudy. Choked with silt and strange vines that hadn’t been there before — vines coiled too tightly, writhing even as she watched them.

She knelt beside the bank and reached toward a single wilted flower growing in the mud.

It looked like it had once been golden.

Just as her fingers brushed the stem, a pulse of warmth surged through her palm. Her hand glowed — soft silver and pale green — and the flower bloomed back to life.

Y/N gasped and fell back, scrambling in the dirt. Her heart thundered.

Behind her, twigs snapped.

Hoseok and Namjoon appeared through the trees, both breathless — having felt it.

“You didn’t touch the tree this time,” Namjoon said slowly, eyes flickering between her hand and the reborn flower. “That wasn’t the Grove.”

Hoseok crouched beside her, gaze unreadable.

“It was you.”

—

That afternoon, the Grove watched her.

Seokjin guided her gently, coaxing her to reach for the energy she’d used by the stream. “Don’t force it,” he murmured. “Just ask.”

Y/N closed her eyes.

Around her, petals shivered. Water curled up from a bowl beside her like it wanted to dance. Her breath hitched. She opened her eyes and the water dropped.

“I can’t control it.”

“You’re not meant to,” Hoseok said from the other side. “It’s not something you own. You’re connected to it.”

“To the Grove?”

“No,” Jungkook said softly, watching her from the tree’s edge. “To everything.”

—

They began preparing that evening.

Namjoon and Yoongi carved protective runes into the trees surrounding the glade.

Seokjin prepared salves and lined crystal bowls with glowing powders.

Hoseok sharpened his senses, listening to the forest for shifts in thought.

Even Jimin, quiet and shaken from his vision, trained with the others, every movement more focused than before.

Y/N helped where she could — but the Grove pulled at her. Like it wanted more from her than she knew how to give.

—

Taehyung left the glade without a word.

No one stopped him.

He returned to the wildflower field where he’d remembered her — but it wasn’t the same.

The flowers were gone.

The golden blooms he’d seen just the day before had shriveled, the grass faded. A hollow wind pushed through the space like a sigh from the past.

He knelt, fingers brushing dry stems. He whispered something — only the wind heard.

A single golden blossom trembled beside his hand, half-opened — then crumbled into ash.

He didn’t move.

—

Later that night, Yoongi and Hoseok sat beneath the trees, the sky overhead beginning to cloud. The stars were still visible — but faint.

“They’re dimmer,” Hoseok said quietly.

Yoongi didn’t answer.

“I think I’m scared,” Hoseok admitted.

Yoongi stared up, the weight of silence between them familiar.

“I don’t remember what we were,” Hoseok went on. “But I remember how she made me feel. Even now. It’s like something’s waking up inside me, and it’s… too loud.”

Yoongi nodded once.

“I don’t think we were ever quiet about her,” he said. “We just forgot how to listen.”

A star fell.

Neither of them spoke again.

—

That night, Y/N dreamed.

She walked alone through the woods — but the forest beneath her was wrong. The roots pulsed beneath her bare feet like veins. They twisted, curling like claws. The light had gone cold.

She stopped.

A voice rose through the trees, smooth as oil.

“You’re blooming, little flower.”

Her blood ran cold.

“But even the brightest petals wilt beneath my hand.”

She turned — nothing there. The trees seemed to lean inward.

“You can have the Grove,” the voice went on, amused. “But I already have its heart.”

She backed away, heart pounding. The roots coiled around her ankles like snakes. The air closed in. She screamed—

And woke.

Breath heaving.

Her tent glowed faintly — not from light, but from vines. Pale silver-green ones curling up her legs, wrapping protectively around her. They uncoiled instantly as her eyes opened.

She scrambled out into the clearing.

Everyone else was already awake.

Jimin stood, tense. Namjoon’s trident glowed faintly. Jungkook rushed to her side.

“I heard him,” she said, shaking. “Ragnor. He spoke to me.”

Yoongi’s eyes darkened. “What did he say?”

Y/N looked around at all of them — her protectors, her past.

Her heart still thundered. She whispered:

“He’s coming.”

And this time…

He knew exactly where to strike.

[mleighd94]

Eternal Hunt Chapter Eleven – The Vermilion Oath

The mausoleum loomed at the edge of the woods like it had grown out of the earth itself — all crumbling stone, cracked angel statues, and rusted iron gates. Moonlight barely reached it, and what did seemed reluctant, like even the sky feared what was buried beneath.

“Place gives me the creeps,” Felix muttered beside her, flicking on his flashlight. “Too quiet.”

Chan didn’t speak. His hand hovered near his gun, but his eyes never left the strange crest etched above the mausoleum doors.

For the one who carries the thirst, but not the curse.

Y/N stepped forward, the breath catching in her chest. She didn’t know why her hands were trembling. She didn’t remember this place. And yet… every cell in her body whispered you’re home.

The heavy doors groaned as they pushed inside. The scent of old stone, dry earth, and something ancient filled the air. The main chamber was circular, lit only by the faint silver of moonlight filtering through shattered stained glass. A narrow staircase spiraled downward into shadow.

No one spoke as they descended.

At the bottom, a long corridor stretched into a darkness that swallowed the flashlight beams. The walls were lined with stone coffins — all empty. At the very end of the hallway, a vaulted chamber opened wide, and there, beneath an arch of blackened bone and silver, sat an altar.

And above it—

Floated a sword.

The air around it shimmered, like heat rising from asphalt. Crimson veins of light pulsed along the altar’s surface, almost in time with Y/N’s heartbeat. The sword hovered upright, tip-down, suspended in the air by nothing but silence and time.

It was beautiful. Terrifying. Like it had been forged by something not quite of this world.

The blade gleamed with a dull silver shine, etched with unreadable runes. Its hilt was wrapped in worn leather the color of old blood.

It hummed.

Y/N’s breath hitched.

She took a step forward.

“Y/N—” Chan started, but she didn’t hear him.

The pull in her chest was magnetic. The world around her blurred. The blood in her veins sang.

The sword turned.

Without warning —

It flew toward her.

Felix shouted. Chan reached for her. But the sword didn’t strike.

It settled into her outstretched hand like it had always been there.

The chamber lit up.

Crimson light exploded around her in a swirling rush of wind and magic. Symbols on the altar blazed to life. The ground shook. A voice echoed in her head — not words, but something deeper. Recognition. A promise. A bond.

Her hair whipped around her. Her eyes glowed silver-red. The sword pulsed once in her hand, and then—

Silence.

The light faded, the last flicker of red magic curling into the stone like smoke.

Y/N stood still, the sword cradled effortlessly in her hand — as if it had always belonged there. As if it had been waiting.

For a moment, no one moved. Even the air seemed to hold its breath.

“Holy shit,” Felix whispered.

His voice cracked the silence like thunder. “That thing flew at you.” He blinked, wide-eyed. “I mean, full-on Excalibur-launching-into-the-chosen-one flew. I nearly had a heart attack.”

Y/N barely heard him. Her chest was rising and falling fast, but she didn’t feel out of breath. She felt charged, like electricity was coiled in her veins.

Felix looked from her to the sword and back again. “Are you okay? You look like… I dunno, like you absorbed something.”

“I didn’t absorb anything,” she murmured. “It found me.”

Chan stepped closer, eyes scanning the altar, then the runes that still pulsed faintly on the stone walls. His voice was low, careful. “This isn’t just an ancient weapon. It was bound to you. That kind of magic—it doesn’t just choose randomly. It’s blood-forged. It knows.”

Y/N turned toward him, fingers curling tighter around the hilt.

“This blade,” Chan continued, “was meant for someone who kept their heart. Who survived everything they were never meant to. Someone who wasn’t supposed to be here—and is anyway.”

His gaze locked with hers. “You’re not just a part of the story anymore.”

Y/N met his stare, her voice quiet but unshakable.

“I’m the ending.”

And the sword pulsed once in her hand — like it agreed.

[mleighd94]

Eternal Hunt Chapter Eleven – The Vermilion Oath

The mausoleum loomed at the edge of the woods like it had grown out of the earth itself — all crumbling stone, cracked angel statues, and rusted iron gates. Moonlight barely reached it, and what did seemed reluctant, like even the sky feared what was buried beneath.

“Place gives me the creeps,” Felix muttered beside her, flicking on his flashlight. “Too quiet.”

Chan didn’t speak. His hand hovered near his gun, but his eyes never left the strange crest etched above the mausoleum doors.

For the one who carries the thirst, but not the curse.

Y/N stepped forward, the breath catching in her chest. She didn’t know why her hands were trembling. She didn’t remember this place. And yet… every cell in her body whispered you’re home.

The heavy doors groaned as they pushed inside. The scent of old stone, dry earth, and something ancient filled the air. The main chamber was circular, lit only by the faint silver of moonlight filtering through shattered stained glass. A narrow staircase spiraled downward into shadow.

No one spoke as they descended.

At the bottom, a long corridor stretched into a darkness that swallowed the flashlight beams. The walls were lined with stone coffins — all empty. At the very end of the hallway, a vaulted chamber opened wide, and there, beneath an arch of blackened bone and silver, sat an altar.

And above it—

Floated a sword.

The air around it shimmered, like heat rising from asphalt. Crimson veins of light pulsed along the altar’s surface, almost in time with Y/N’s heartbeat. The sword hovered upright, tip-down, suspended in the air by nothing but silence and time.

It was beautiful. Terrifying. Like it had been forged by something not quite of this world.

The blade gleamed with a dull silver shine, etched with unreadable runes. Its hilt was wrapped in worn leather the color of old blood.

It hummed.

Y/N’s breath hitched.

She took a step forward.

“Y/N—” Chan started, but she didn’t hear him.

The pull in her chest was magnetic. The world around her blurred. The blood in her veins sang.

The sword turned.

Without warning —

It flew toward her.

Felix shouted. Chan reached for her. But the sword didn’t strike.

It settled into her outstretched hand like it had always been there.

The chamber lit up.

Crimson light exploded around her in a swirling rush of wind and magic. Symbols on the altar blazed to life. The ground shook. A voice echoed in her head — not words, but something deeper. Recognition. A promise. A bond.

Her hair whipped around her. Her eyes glowed silver-red. The sword pulsed once in her hand, and then—

Silence.

The light faded, the last flicker of red magic curling into the stone like smoke.

Y/N stood still, the sword cradled effortlessly in her hand — as if it had always belonged there. As if it had been waiting.

For a moment, no one moved. Even the air seemed to hold its breath.

“Holy shit,” Felix whispered.

His voice cracked the silence like thunder. “That thing flew at you.” He blinked, wide-eyed. “I mean, full-on Excalibur-launching-into-the-chosen-one flew. I nearly had a heart attack.”

Y/N barely heard him. Her chest was rising and falling fast, but she didn’t feel out of breath. She felt charged, like electricity was coiled in her veins.

Felix looked from her to the sword and back again. “Are you okay? You look like… I dunno, like you absorbed something.”

“I didn’t absorb anything,” she murmured. “It found me.”

Chan stepped closer, eyes scanning the altar, then the runes that still pulsed faintly on the stone walls. His voice was low, careful. “This isn’t just an ancient weapon. It was bound to you. That kind of magic—it doesn’t just choose randomly. It’s blood-forged. It knows.”

Y/N turned toward him, fingers curling tighter around the hilt.

“This blade,” Chan continued, “was meant for someone who kept their heart. Who survived everything they were never meant to. Someone who wasn’t supposed to be here—and is anyway.”

His gaze locked with hers. “You’re not just a part of the story anymore.”

Y/N met his stare, her voice quiet but unshakable.

“I’m the ending.”

And the sword pulsed once in her hand — like it agreed.

[mleighd94]

Summer on the Diamond

Chapter Five: “The Ones You Dance With”

⸻

The town festival looked like something out of a movie. A hallmark movie to be exact.

String lights hung between trees like stars had gotten tangled in the branches.

Music floated through the air — a live band on a makeshift stage playing old summer songs no one remembered the names of.

The smell of cotton candy and fried everything clung to your clothes.

You didn’t think you’d enjoy it.

Then Wooyoung grabbed your hand and spun you into the crowd like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it.

“You can’t stand still at a festival!” he shouted over the music.

You laughed, stumbling a bit in your sneakers as he twirled you again. “That’s a rule?”

“Law of the land,” he said. “Now smile like you love me.”

You did.

Not like that, but still — it was easy with him.

⸻

Then it was Yunho — who blushed when he asked and nearly dropped you when he stepped wrong.

“I don’t dance,” he said, hands warm and tentative on your waist.

“You’re doing great.”

“You’re lying.”

You laughed. “Maybe a little.”

⸻

Hongjoong pulled you in with a smirk and rhythm that surprised you.

“You’ve got good balance,” he noted as you moved together. “I approve.”

“You’re judging my dancing?”

“I judge everything,” he said. “But I like the way you move.”

⸻

Mingi turned it into a performance.

He dipped you, spun you, shouted ��Encore!” even though there was no stage.

You couldn’t breathe for how hard you laughed.

⸻

Jongho danced like he was protecting you.

Steady. Safe. Like you were a glass sculpture he refused to drop.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he murmured, “but I like seeing you smile.”

⸻

And then San.

He didn’t ask.

He just appeared — offered his hand, eyes serious for once.

You hesitated.

Then took it.

He didn’t spin you. Didn’t joke. Just swayed with you in a quiet corner of the field as the music slowed.

His hand on your waist felt like a question you didn’t have an answer to yet.

And you weren’t sure if it was the heat of the lights, the air between you, or something much heavier — but it lingered long after the music faded.

⸻

Except one person never asked. Never danced.

You saw him — Seonghwa — leaning near the edge of the crowd. Watching. Like he always did.

But he never moved.

Never looked at you for too long.

And you hated how much that hurt.

⸻

Two Days Later

The rain hit hard and sudden — smacking against the dugout roof like it was trying to get inside.

Practice had been canceled. The team was gone.

You had forgotten your jacket in the locker room and found yourself detouring… to him.

Seonghwa sat alone in the dugout. Arms on his knees. Soaked.

“You’ll catch a cold,” you said quietly.

He didn’t turn. “I like the quiet.”

You stepped in. The air between you smelled like wet earth and something electric.

“You didn’t dance with me,” you said finally.

He looked up.

“No.”

“Why?”

His eyes met yours — calm, dark, steady.

“Because if I touched you in front of them, I wouldn’t have been able to stop.”

Your breath caught.

Neither of you moved for a moment. The rain filled the silence like applause.

Then he stood — slowly — and stepped into your space.

“Tell me not to,” he said.

You didn’t.

So he kissed you.

It was soft, at first — hesitant, like he didn’t know if he had the right.

But when you kissed him back, it changed.

It deepened.

His hands slid to your waist. Yours to his jaw and the back of his head pulling him closer.

And the world narrowed to rain and breath and skin and the ache of holding back for too long.

When you finally pulled away, he leaned his forehead to yours. Breathing hard. Silent.

You didn’t say anything.

Neither did he.

But somewhere near the edge of the dugout — just out of view — someone else had stopped moving.

San.

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t step in.

He just turned.

And walked back into the rain.

@remedyx I hope you’re still enjoying this and that’s fulfilling your need 💕

[mleighd94]

Hallowed Grove Chapter Ten: Beneath the Grove’s Light

** None of them can sleep. It’s a little chaotic.**

The stars were still awake when Taehyung wandered from camp.

Something pulled him deeper into the Grove, past the silver tree, into the overgrown edge of the forest. The moonlight shimmered across the grass, and then — without warning — the flowers appeared.

Golden wildflowers. Dozens of them.

He didn’t remember this part of the forest ever blooming like this.

He stepped into the clearing, heart thudding in his chest, the air charged with something ancient and soft.

Then a sound — faint, carried on the wind.

A laugh.

Her laugh.

His knees weakened.

The clearing blurred. The scent of flowers grew stronger.

Suddenly, he was somewhere else.

He stood in a vast field bathed in golden sunlight. Magic pulsed beneath his skin — flickering green and gold at his fingertips. She was there. Y/N. Hair loose in the wind, a wild smile on her lips. Her voice, the first thing that cut through the haze.

“Don’t hold back,” she told him. “Let them see what you can do, Taehyung.”

He’d looked at her like she was everything. Like he wanted to believe he was powerful, because she already did.

He opened his palm and let go — light bursting into the air like fireflies. And she had laughed. Not in surprise. In joy. In pride.

She had always believed in him.

Taehyung blinked.

The field was gone. The wildflowers were still beneath his feet — but the memory had left a mark.

His fingers twitched. The air around him shimmered.

He stood still for a long time, staring at the sky.

He didn’t say a word.

But he knew.

He had loved her once.

And he was starting to remember why.

—

Y/N returned to the silver tree just after midnight.

She hadn’t meant to. Her feet moved on their own, drawn by something old and patient.

The Grove was so still. The petals at the base of the tree pulsed faintly with light, breathing with her.

She stepped into the glade, exhaling. “I know you’re watching,” she whispered. “I just wish I knew what you wanted.”

“You came back.”

She turned. Jungkook stood behind her, barefoot, tousled, his raspberry-red hair messy from sleep.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said quietly.

He stepped beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. “Me neither.”

The silence stretched, but it wasn’t empty. It was full of what hadn’t been said — and everything they had felt.

“I keep wondering,” she said softly, “what I’ll find if I remember everything. What if I was someone… not worth it?”

Jungkook turned toward her.

“You are worth it,” he said simply. “Even if everything you were is gone, you’re still… you.”

She met his eyes.

And then, without meaning to, she stepped closer.

Her fingers brushed his shirt.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He didn’t speak. His gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes — asking.

She kissed him.

It was soft, like sunlight on water. Her hand pressed to his chest. He kissed her back with equal gentleness — not rushed, not desperate. Just sure. As if he’d waited for this moment through lifetimes.

The tree shimmered behind them. Light stirred through the glade. Flowers opened wider.

When they pulled apart, Y/N kept her forehead against his.

“I don’t know what this means,” she murmured.

“You don’t have to,” Jungkook whispered. “I do.”

—

Across the Grove, something shifted.

Namjoon’s trident glowed softly in the darkness.

He sat upright, heart pounding. The magic was moving.

Then it hit him.

He was standing on a cliff above a stormy sea. Y/N was beside him, wind whipping her hair around her face.

The trident hovered in the air — wild and thrumming with energy.

“You were born for this,” she said, voice fierce and certain. “Not to follow. To lead.”

He reached forward and claimed the weapon. The sea calmed.

Namjoon gasped, blinking back to the present. His grip tightened on the trident. Its power was warmer now — alive.

—

Jimin knelt by the stream.

The water reflected starlight — and then a different light.

He saw her there. Y/N. Spinning in the tide, bare feet against wet sand, laughing as he twirled her. The moonlight kissed her skin. She reached for him.

And he had taken her hand without hesitation.

The vision slipped away, leaving only the hush of the stream behind.

He smiled. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“That night,” he whispered. “We were happy.”

—

Yoongi sat beneath an old tree, listening to the silence.

It used to comfort him. Tonight it ached.

He rested his hand against the bark.

The vision came quietly. Y/N beside him, leaning against the trunk. No words. Just the soft pressure of her fingers brushing his — a silent promise.

Peace.

He opened his eyes.

“You never needed words,” he said aloud.

—

Then came the cold.

It started as a shiver.

Namjoon felt it first. The trident tensed in his grip. A breeze blew through the glade — sharp and wrong.

A nearby flower withered. The moss beneath Seokjin’s feet turned black at the edges.

Birds burst from the trees with a shriek.

Yoongi stood quickly. Hoseok’s eyes widened.

“He knows,” Hoseok said, his voice tight. “Ragnor felt it. Her magic. It called to him.”

Jungkook moved protectively closer to Y/N, his body between her and the shadows.

Namjoon lifted the trident. Its glow flickered like a dying star.

The Grove had chosen her.

But in waking her…

It had woken something else, too.

[mleighd94]

@remedyx why is this everything? Why am I now picturing Ateez from my fanfic do this? 🤣🥵

[mleighd94]

💖Taglist💖

Hey guys seriously let me know if you wanna be in a tag list for any of my series. I WANT/NEED to know. Please drop a comment below or message me.

[mleighd94]

💖Taglist💖

Hey guys seriously let me know if you wanna be in a tag list for any of my series. I WANT/NEED to know. Please drop a comment below or message me.

[mleighd94]

Summer on the Diamond

Chapter Four: “Heatstroke and Heartbeats”

⸻

By noon, the heat was unbearable.

The field shimmered in the sun like it was ready to melt. Jerseys clung to every player’s back. Someone had already thrown up near second base. You had gone through five water bottles, three rolls of tape, and one minor panic attack over San forgetting sunscreen.

“Hydrate!” you shouted as you passed the dugout again. “If anyone passes out, I’m not dragging your unconscious body off the field!”

“Y/N’s threatening us now,” Wooyoung called from the fence. “Kind of hot, honestly.”

Mingi poured water over his own head and nodded solemnly. “We deserve it.”

⸻

You were kneeling next to Jongho, checking his knee brace, when it happened.

A sharp, startled yell. Not pain — panic.

You turned just in time to see Yeosang go down mid-sprint, tumbling onto his side in the dirt, arms clutching at his thigh.

“Shit—” You were moving before anyone else, sprinting across the grass.

Yeosang was breathing hard, one leg bent awkwardly. “Pulled it,” he gasped. “Hamstring, maybe—”

“Don’t move,” you said instantly, dropping to your knees beside him.

Within seconds, Seonghwa was there — calm but storm-eyed.

“What happened?”

“Overextended,” you said. “He went too hard on the push-off.”

Seonghwa dropped to a crouch across from you, steadying Yeosang’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”

You moved with practiced focus, pressing gently along Yeosang’s thigh. “You’ll live, but I need to get you off the field.”

“I can help,” San said from a few feet away, already stepping forward.

“No,” Seonghwa said — not harsh, just firm. “Let her work.”

That silenced everyone.

Even San.

⸻

Later, after Yeosang had been iced and elevated and thoroughly spoiled by Yunho and Mingi’s snack offerings, you collapsed onto the bench with a long sigh. The sun still hadn’t relented. Neither had your headache.

From the dugout, you heard someone whisper:

“She’s really something, huh?”

You turned to see Wooyoung, Yunho, and Hongjoong huddled around a bucket of ice, very obviously watching you when they thought you couldn’t see.

“San’s obsessed,” Wooyoung said.

“No kidding,” Yunho muttered. “He nearly tackled Yeosang just to get near her.”

Hongjoong didn’t say anything at first. He tossed an empty Gatorade bottle into the bin and leaned back against the wall.

“She’s stuck between fire and gravity,” he said simply. “One of them wants to be the reason she smiles. The other already knows why she doesn’t.”

You pretended you didn’t hear it.

But your stomach twisted all the same.

⸻

You stayed late again.

You always did now.

It was quieter after they left — no shouting, no teasing, just the low buzz of fluorescent lights and the rhythmic hum of the ice machine. You’d started liking the silence more than you wanted to admit.

You were restocking the cabinets when you heard the door creak open.

Seonghwa. Shirt damp. Expression tight. Cradling his shoulder with one hand.

“I think I strained it again,” he said. “Nothing major. Just tight.”

You waved him over, gesturing toward the table. “Sit.”

He obeyed without argument, which was rare for this team.

You stood behind him, slowly sliding your hands beneath his shirt collar to find the muscle knotting near the top of his shoulder. He tensed under your touch — not in pain, just… in awareness.

“You should’ve said something earlier,” you murmured.

“I didn’t want to distract you.”

“You’re not a distraction,” you said softly, pressing into the tension.

The silence stretched.

Finally, he said, “You’re good at this.”

“At what? Ice packs and bandages?”

“At seeing people.”

You blinked — hands pausing just slightly against his skin.

He looked over his shoulder, eyes locking with yours.

“You’re always watching. Listening. But no one ever asks how you are.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Not when he was looking at you like that — like he already knew the truth.

Your hands fell away.

He stood slowly, then paused near the door. “You can talk to me. You don’t have to carry it all alone.”

Then he was gone.

And you were left with nothing but the hum of the lights and the ache in your chest that had nothing to do with pulled muscles.

@remedyx 💖💖💖💖

[mleighd94]

Summer on the Diamond

Chapter Three: “Bonfire Night”

⸻

The fire cracked like it was trying to talk over them.

San had built it himself — or so he claimed — with nothing but “vibes and dead branches.”

Someone had dragged out speakers, half the team was already barefoot, and the sky above the beach was a mess of stars and smoke.

You didn’t mean to drink the lemonade someone spiked.

And you definitely didn’t mean to linger next to San, but it was hard not to when he kept appearing beside you like a shadow with a grin.

“Tell me this doesn’t feel like a movie,” he said, nudging your shoulder with his.

You turned to look at him, and the glow of the flames made his face look softer somehow. Warmed, not smirking.

You hated that it made your stomach flutter.

“It’s a baseball movie,” you said dryly. “Sweaty guys, bad decisions, predictable romance.”

He smiled. “So, what part are we at now?”

“Right before someone ruins it by kissing the wrong person.”

He looked at you for a moment too long.

You looked away first.

⸻

Across the fire, Seonghwa sat with a bottle of water in one hand and his gaze fixed on the waves.

He hadn’t said much all night.

He’d carried the cooler, helped build the fire ring, passed out marshmallows like a counselor at summer camp — but always from the edge.

Always from a distance.

You didn’t notice he was watching until your laugh — San had said something stupid, probably about s’mores and soulmates — echoed too loud across the sand.

And suddenly, there he was. Eyes locked with yours.

Even from twenty feet away, it felt like he was closer than San was.

You broke the stare first.

Again.

⸻

Later, you wandered toward the edge of the beach to cool off.

The fire felt like too much — too hot, too loud, too many eyes.

You didn’t hear San follow you until he spoke.

“You good?”

You turned. He was just a silhouette now — tall, broad, hoodie half-zipped.

His hair was a little damp from the ocean, or sweat, or both.

“I’m fine.”

“You left kinda fast.”

“I didn’t want to catch on fire.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes this time.

“Seonghwa’s watching you,” he said suddenly.

You stilled. “So?”

“So you don’t look at him the way you look at me.”

You didn’t reply.

San stepped a little closer. His voice dropped, but not in volume — in weight.

“You laugh around him,” he said. “But you lean toward me.”

That flutter in your chest? It wasn’t butterflies. It was panic.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

San took another step.

“You can tell me to stop. I will. But you gotta say it.”

You couldn’t. Not yet.

So instead, you looked at his mouth. His stupid, smug mouth — the one that never shut up and now was suddenly too quiet.

His fingers brushed your wrist.

A heartbeat. A breath.

Then a voice from behind — even, calm, careful.

“San.”

You both turned.

Seonghwa stood halfway down the path, backlit by the bonfire.

Expression unreadable. Eyes sharp.

“It’s getting late.”

San didn’t move.

Y/N swallowed hard.

⸻

You left before anyone else.

Feet heavy. Skin warm. Head loud.

And for the first time since arriving at Diamond Coast, you weren’t sure who you were more afraid of falling for—

The one who chased you.

Or the one who saw you standing still.

@remedyx for you my friend 💖

[mleighd94]

Eternal Hunt — Chapter Ten: Ghosts of the Living

Glenrow Asylum

The gates of Glenrow Asylum groaned as they pushed through, rust flaking from the iron bars like dead skin.

The building sagged under the weight of a century’s worth of abandonment, windows shattered, the stone walls blackened by mold and rain. The trees that surrounded it were skeletal, reaching toward the cracked sky like fingers of the dead.

Y/N stared up at the crumbling facade, the chill in the air wrapping around her spine like a chain.

“This place smells like rot,” Felix muttered, adjusting the strap of his gun across his chest.

“Fits,” Seungmin said quietly. “They used to bury the worst experiments here.”

Chan gave a sharp nod. “Stay sharp. Dominic wanted us looking here for a reason.”

They moved inside, boots echoing on broken tile and shattered glass.

The deeper they pushed into the asylum, the worse the air became — thick, damp, full of the stale remnants of fear.

Y/N let her senses stretch wide. She could feel the ghosts of suffering here — not spirits, but memories trapped in the stone.

At first, they found nothing but debris.

Old patient records. Broken restraints. Smears of rust that might have been blood.

But no relic.

No weapon.

No Bloodstone.

Nothing.

Only empty shadows and broken dreams.

⸻

“Anything?” Chan asked, voice tense as he flipped through a rusted locker full of faded files.

Seungmin shook his head, rifling through an old ledger. “Just patient lists. Medical experiments. A few disappearances the authorities buried.”

Hyunjin kicked aside a fallen cabinet, frustration radiating off him like heat. “It’s a dead end.”

“No,” Y/N said, her voice low, thoughtful. She crouched beside an overturned desk, brushing dust away from a heavy leather-bound book.

A ledger — thick, brittle with age.

There, stamped in wax and crumbling with time, was a crest — a sigil she recognized immediately.

An inverted crown, encircled by thorns dripping blood.

Her throat tightened.

“This isn’t just an asylum,” she murmured. “It was built over sacred ground.”

“What kind of sacred?” Felix asked, crouching beside her.

Y/N traced the broken seal with one fingertip. “Vampire royalty. A queen who rebelled against the old bloodlines. She buried something… someone… the elders feared.”

She flipped through the ledger quickly, finding old land purchase records — estates seized, names crossed out.

One note in the margin, scrawled hastily in Latin, caught her eye:

“Bury the memory where no soul will walk. Let the crown rot in silence.”

Beneath that:

Parcel 17A: Riverside Cemetery — Restricted Access.

A private graveyard.

A forgotten mausoleum.

Not under Glenrow.

Beyond it.

“Dominic was never after this place,” Y/N said, standing slowly. “He was after what they tried to erase.”

“And now so are we,” Chan said grimly. “Everyone get ready. We’re moving out.”

⸻

The team made their way back through the asylum’s broken halls, adrenaline high and teeth gritted from wasted time and too many close calls.

Y/N stayed near the rear, her body still aching from her blood loss at the last fight.

She ignored it. She had to.

Until she stumbled.

Hyunjin caught her arm before she could fall.

“Hey,” he hissed under his breath. “You’re not okay.”

“I said I’m fine,” she snapped, pulling away — too harsh, too defensive.

“You always say that!” His voice cracked louder than he meant.

The others looked back, startled.

Chan motioned for the rest to move on, giving them space without a word.

Hyunjin closed the distance between them in two long steps.

“You think you’re expendable,” he said, quieter now, furious. “You think throwing yourself at every blade, every monster, will make what happened to you matter less.”

Her hands curled into fists.

“You think if you bleed enough,” he said, stepping even closer, “you’ll earn forgiveness. Or forget.”

Her eyes burned. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you’re breaking,” he said. “And you’re too damn proud to let anyone catch you.”

They were close enough now that she could feel his breath on her face.

“Let me catch you,” he whispered.

She hated the way her defenses crumbled. Hated it — and wanted it — more than she wanted anything else.

Y/N grabbed his jacket with both hands and kissed him.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was desperate, bruising, raw — everything they couldn’t say clawing its way to the surface.

Hyunjin kissed her back just as fiercely, one hand tangling in her hair, the other anchoring her to him like he was afraid she might vanish again.

When they finally broke apart, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together, Hyunjin’s voice came low and rough:

“You’re not alone anymore. You hear me?”

She closed her eyes, just for a second, letting herself believe it.

Then she nodded.

Hyunjin lingered a moment longer, his forehead brushing hers.

Softly, barely a breath:

“Stay with me, Ghost.”

The name slipped out — not planned, not rehearsed — but it fit.

Like he had known it all along.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open at the word, but she didn’t pull away.

For once, she let him say it.

Let herself be it.

And when they walked out of Glenrow’s wreckage into the rain-drenched night, they did it side by side.

⸻

The drive to the cemetery was long, the city lights fading behind them into woods thick with mist and shadows.

Felix drove. Chan rode silent in the front seat, scanning old maps on a battered tablet.

Y/N leaned back against the seat, exhaustion tugging at her, Hyunjin’s jacket draped across her shoulders without a word.

They parked at the edge of a forgotten road.

The graveyard lay ahead — overgrown, hidden by tangled trees and thick fog.

Moonlight broke through the clouds in thin silver strands, casting long shadows over crumbling headstones.

And at the center of it all —

A black stone mausoleum, half-buried by time.

Above the door, carved deep into the stone, was the same crest Y/N had found in the asylum records.

The inverted crown.

The thorns.

The blood.

Her pulse jumped in her throat.

This was it.

She could feel it in her bones.

The weapon was here.

Waiting.

Calling her home.